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2013.07.19 - Not the First Date Y'all Had in Mind
It's hot in the Big Apple. It's that wet, sticky kind of hot; the oppressive sort that makes people do crazy things like bust open fire hydrants, buy hand held whirlie fans, and commit heinous acts of crime in frustration. It's been a busy day for Superman. Finally, as sun begins to set over the city, things have quieted down some, and as he soars above the skyline, he finds himself thinking he needs to check to be sure his parents air conditioning is working. For Maxima, the day's heat has not been that remarkable. The bloodsport arenas of Almerac are kept at similar temperatures - though, of course, in Almeracian territory, there is no insistence upon these ridiculous levels of clothing! As Superman soars, she watches, standing atop the roof where Lex Luthor had comped her a penthouse suite, used approximately twice for purposes of hair conditioning and a power nap. Her eyes narrow as she smirks to herself. A deep breath, letting it out, and she kicks off into the air, sweeping forwards like a preposterous bird, rising up and abruptly looming off Kal-el's left side. "Kal-El!" she says, with a sort of smug, half-angry delight in her tone. "I knew you would reveal yourself before long. Has this Legion contacted you to begin the arrangements, or have they too failed in their mission?" Superman turns in the air to face Maxima and smiles at her. "Hello, again, Empress." He slows his speed and floats along backwards while continuing to face the Alien Ruler. "I did hear something about you going on Bachelorette or something like that. It wasn't very clear what the conversation was all about to be honest. I'm glad you're here to clear it up." Maxima is silent for long, stretching moments, her face slowly darkening. Her speed slows as well, if gradually. She takes a deep breath again, letting it out once more, and then says, soberly, "I see they have failed me." She turns halfway away, which would be absurd if she wasn't doing it to shove her shoulder forwards, aiming for the Super-armpit and then twisting to aim a full-body throw out towards the Atlantic ocean. "AS HAVE YOU!! Your miserable planet's condescension has wearied me for the last time!!" "Conde-wha?" Maxima's split-second movements take Superman by surprise. He's not accustom to someone being able to move so quickly on this planet, and certainly did not expect her to attack him. The hand is able to grab hold of Superman and fling him in a downward throw. As he hurtles towards the water, he slows somewhat, but still causes a massive amount of water displacement as his body back-flops upon the waves. For a few moments there is nothing, but then, Superman rises out of the water slowly, his hair matted down with water and his suit soaked. "Empress Maxima, I'm afraid that wasn't very nice." "Do you know what else is NOT VERY NICE? Addressing an empress like a suckling child!" comes Maxima's counterstatement - how is she saying that? She's like a mile away now, even if she's closing fast. It may occur to Superman quickly what happened - telepathic contact. Probably not a good sign. She aims her body like a missile, her hands sweeping out to ball into a double fist ahead of her as she continues her outraged statements: "Every last one of your miserable patriarchs and patriachoids has addressed me as if I were a SIMPLE CHILD! You have had your sport, and now I shall have MINE, Kal-El! Defend yourself!!" "I'm sorry, Empress Maxima. I will not fight you." Superman hovers above the water with his arms folded over his chest and a look of disappointment over his face. Water droplets fall from his jaw and down his suit. His plan is to wait until the last possible moment and then turn out of her pathway, allowing her to go by. That turning maneuver works a treat, sending Maxima slamming into the water. A spurting burst of foam erupts from behind her. She is not immediately visible for a full twenty seconds thereafter. This doesn't shut her up. "Another spurning! Your costumed ilk on this world fight each other PERPETUALLY! We have seen your transmissions and read your news media! You decline battle - oh. OH!" she says, with sudden realization. Floating out of the sea, sheathed in a sphere illuminated largely by the water pouring off of it, she's smiling again, for whatever reason. "I believe I understand - you refuse to offer me the /satisfaction/ of punishing your impudence?" Superman holds his hands, palm upwards, while shaking his head. He's almost pleading with her by this point, it seems. "Empress Maxima, I apologize, but I don't really know what it is you're talking about. It's not about satisfaction...I don't want to fight you. There's no reason this needs to turn violent." Maxima's brows furrow yet again. "What? Do you not -" She pauses. "When you say that you do not know, are you mocking me, Kryptonian, or has this planet's hypocrisies simply indoctrinated you to the point of not comprehending my actions?" she asks, suspiciously. "Your planet thrives upon violence! Your United State celebrates it with simulated artillery bombardment! Do you simply tell yourselves, each to each, that it is somehow a cruel necessity?! Do you redouble the evils of war by denying yourself its PLEASURES??" "What I'm saying is, I have no idea why you're so upset about me and everything else about this planet. If you'd just calm down, I'm sure we can talk this over like rational adults." Superman sighs and shakes his head, "You make a valid point about some of the idiocyncrasies of this place, but it is my home. I'm uncertain why you've been so offended by this place." "Because it is INFURIATING!!" Maxima bellows. This time she puts her back into it; the water around her ripples. "Every time I have turned left or right I run into some sneering MAN attempting to get me to 'calm down,' to 'relax,' to 'behave appropriately.' I WILL NOT BEHAVE APPROPRIATELY--" And the field around her collapses, and draws upwards towards her face. A moment later, it is a beam of sheer and stone-shattering psychokinetic force. The target? That nice helpful big red 'S'. KRACKATHOOOM! The shot hits Superman directly in the chest and sends him skyward, heading back towards the land. The arc takes him past Metropolis proper, and to the west--into Gotham--where he crashes into an abandoned skyscraper. Dirty now, in addition to being wet, Superman sits up and wipes away some of the water from his face, leaving dark smudges from the new found dirt on his hands. He pulls himself up and lifts off, heading out the hole he came through, and turning on the extra speed once the wake will no longer harm the buildings or the people below. "So what is this?" Superman asks as he once again joins Maxima. "It makes you feel better to beat on me?" Maxima swoops after the blue and red streak, her hair streaming behind her. She comes up short at that question, meeting him over the sea. "... Your planet lives in PARADOXES! It should be called Contrary, not Earth! /Obviously/!" she continues, before sweeping her leg around fast enough for a roar to come afterwards, the roundhouse blow fortunately angled seawards -- and sending a window-rattling sonic boom outwards from the passage of her foot through the atmosphere. "Do you NOT?" Superaman's superspeed is enough to get him out of the way in the nick of time from Maxima's vicious roundhouse kick. He sighs and looks at her sternly, appearing to become a bit perturbed. "You came here, expecting to just whisk me back to your homeworld to mate with you, and when I say that I'd like my home world's customs to be respected, you become petulant and mock my home. It seems there are a handful of paradoxes you haven't considered, or are simply choosing to ignore." Maxima's scowl gets deeper, and she wraps her fingers around each other, as if she's about to pray. "You deceitful cur! I offered you favorable terms - you would even have suzerainity over this world, to dispose of it as you will-- and you call me PETULANT? I have shown consideration beyond reckoning! In deference to your traumatic life! And you still insult me!!" What a bad prayer. Oh wait, she's not praying - no, it's the Captain Kirk Special, a double-fisted slam downwards from over her shoulder with blurring speed. "You may be a Kryptonian but you have the soul of a MEAT ANIMAL!" Just as Maxima is about to lay the smack down upon the Kryptonian's head, Superman reaches his arms up to grasp at her wrists, attempting to catch her mid strike. If successful, it'll leave them face to face, floating out over the ocean. "These slights are imagined, Empress. I bear you no ill will. Your anger is misplaced." The brutal fists of Almerac are caught... And strain against the Man of Steel's own strength with relative equanemity! As her biceps stand out in relief, Maxima snaps, "You speak in riddles again! Are you sure you are not a monk or some celibate? Pfah! I had hoped to find a suitably hard-spirited male to improve the line of Almerac, but it would seem that perhaps my judgment has been poor-- you may be strong, but the vlox is a thousand times stronger than its predator. Yet that worm struggles hard, and seeks to feed its kin!" The analogy may be clear even if the examples aren't. She jerks her hands at a sudden angle, snapping them loose and tossing her hair. "Your world holds OTHER treasures of great price, Kal-el; perhaps you would prefer I seek them, and I am inclined to indulge you - let it not be said that Maxima was moved by spite!!" And then she's streaking upwards on a ballistic arc, abrupt and swift... ... but trending out to sea, at least, and towards the south. The rumble of her supersonic passage follows after her, like God muttering over a bit of undercooked ribs. Category:Log